Baby Earthquakes

The first time I was kicked from within, I was lying on my back (when it was still safe to) and had my hand just resting down near where many moons ago my appendix was ripped out of me...ever so lovingly. (And for 7,000!) I was trying to convince myself I ought to get out of bed when I felt a sharp thump against my hand.

I froze.

Had she just kicked me?

I waited a moment for it to happen again, but I didn't feel anything. But, I knew it was a kick. My baby had kicked me for the first time.

Later that day, I put my hand back down in the area and waited for her to do a repeat performance. It took hours, but I finally felt little jabs of her tiny foot. (Or fist, but I think it was a foot.)

Pilot Boy couldn't feel anything. He thought I was making up.

As the weeks went on, the movements got stronger and more pronounced. There were also clear kicks, head-butts, and just random movements (like rolls or something). Basically, I spent a lot of time with my hand down my pants just to feel my kid move around.

Finally, shortly before the winter holidays, Pilot Boy felt his daughter move. It was a bit movement. It felt like an earthquake going on in my uterus and I said, "You've had to have felt that one."

"Yep."

And that is when the kicks stopped and the earthquakes really began. Seriously. Sometimes they are concentrated earthquakes-- like in the area where my former appendix lived till it decided it hated me and moved out. It moved on to green pastures seven years ago, yet when my daughter decides to beat up on it, it hurts. Her other favorite thing to do is stomp on my bladder. Or one night, she decided to do headstands or something on my poor bladder. I spent the entire night thinking I had to pee, but I really didn't. I just had a baby on my bladder.

Rumblings tend to happen at night, like when I'm trying to go to bed. Since I hit week 25, the little quakes have been happening more often. I'll be sitting around during the day and suddenly the book, laptop, phone, Kindle will just go tumbling over from where I had it perched because my kid decided she didn't like it there. Or my arm jerks.

"What the hell was that for?" Pilot Boy asked when I accidentally elbowed him this weekend in the side whilst we sat on the couch reading.

"Your daughter wishes you to know my pain," was my reply.

He didn't buy it.

Sometimes all this movement (which is a good thing, as she's old enough now she ought to be moving and shaking and channeling a soccer player) is fine with me, while other times I just wish she'd kick me in the stomach. Or the spleen. Or somewhere other than my bladder or my former appendix. I've no clue what it is about the scar tissue hanging out there, but man...each time she hits that spot it feels almost as bad as when I made the mistake of going bowling two weeks after I had it removed. Or when I went bowling three months after it left me for some jar. (Or whatever they do with infected appendixes.) Or when I went bowling almost two years after it was cut out of me.

I shouldn't go bowling. I tend to hurt myself in the area where the appendix used to live.

I also shouldn't be pregnant as my kid loves to kick me there and it's freaking annoying. It's either a sharp paint or a dull pain, depending on how much oomph she puts into her movement.

I've yet to see anything, like a foot or hand poking out. I've yet to see anything really as when I'm paying attention and staring at my bare belly, she decides to do all her moving towards my spin or something. I do know it moves, though, the belly. My shirts sometimes ripple during earthquakes.

She is kicking me down. Just little jabs right behind my belly button.

I like it best when I do catch her out and get to feel her little foot as it rams itself into my innards. There is just something completely mind blowing about the whole thing--you know feeling it inside and on your hand and knowing it's a little foot and some day there will be a little human outside who will kick you in the face with the same foot. (And not on purpose. It'll just likely happen. Most likely whilst changing a nappy.)